we pay high and holy debt no tears of pa**ionate regret shall stain this votive lay i'll worthy beaumont were the grief that fling it self on wild relief when saint have gone but nature to its inmost part faith had refined and to her heart a peacefull cradle given calm as the dew drop's free to rest at that hour when all thing have repose 'o lonely watcher of the skies do you hear the night wind and the sighs of harp playing unto love to unclose the pale the cloud break forth the stream of light to dance upon this earth the fury of the storm awakes our past when god and nature both were to be feared the december storm returns us to that place when nature glory awed the human race so lonelysombre at night i fight to see a beam of joy of light the sun send life from the sky but in the sunset will have to die..